More Than You Know
by Melville22000
Summary: Sequel to my last story, "Easy To Love," alternate ending to Season 6. What if Warren's bullets had hit different targets? Violence, Buffy angst, Buffy/Tara romance.
1. Chapter 1

More Than You Know

by

Melville22000

Rating: PG (violence)

Spoilers: Until the last scene of "Seeing Red"

Disclaimer: All honor to Joss, it's his world and characters. I take the blame for everything I changed.

Author's Note: This was inspired by my last story, "Easy To Love." In order to continue in the same Buffy/Tara vein, I realized I would have to do an alternate ending to Season 6. So I've jumped forward from the Buffy/Tara encounter I added onto the end of "Dead Things," to the climactic scene of "Seeing Red" and redirected Warren's bullets.

*********************

"_More than you know,_

_More than you know,_

_Girl of my heart,_

_I love you so._

_Lately I find,_

_You're on my mind,_

_More than you know._

_Whether you're right,_

_Whether you're wrong,_

_Girl of my heart,_

_I'll string along._

_You need me so,_

_More than you'll ever know."_

-More Than You Know, Vincent Youmans-Billy Rose-Edward Eliscu

*****************************

"You think you could just do that to me!!?" shrieked Warren, pointing the gun at Buffy. "You think I'd let you get away with that?! Think again!"

Before she could move, Xander leaped in front of her, shoving her down and away. She heard the shot as she hit the ground.

"This isn't over," she could hear Warren yell. As she got to her feet she saw him running away. He fired the gun wildly toward the house and she heard something in the distance that sounded like glass breaking. But before she could give chase there was a groaning sound much closer.

"Xander!"

He was on the ground beside her, his hands clutching his stomach. They were doing little to stop the blood leaking out, the stain of it slowly spreading across his shirt.

She dropped to her knees beside him. "Don't move," she cried. He gasped and nodded. "Don't worry," he managed to say. "I don't think I could move if I tried."

"I'll get help," she said. In an instant she was on her feet, dashing toward the house. It seemed to her to take forever to get to the door, though Xander had never seen anyone run so fast. Finally she reached the phone and dialed 911.

"I need an ambulance at 1630 Revello Drive," she said, managing to keep her voice steady. "Someone's been shot. Please hurry."

She hung up and headed back to the door. But before she could exit she heard something from upstairs. It sounded like a woman sobbing, almost wailing. She raced up the stairs. It was coming from Willow's room.

She enterd to the sight of Willow laying splayed on the carpet, a horrible bloody hole in her chest. Her head was in Tara's lap, Tara's hands gently cradling it as she wept.

Tara looked up at Buffy, her tear-stained face a mask of agony.

"She's dead," said Tara, her voice choked with pain.

Buffy forced herself to look again at Willow. Her body was motionless, and she knew with a sickening certainty that Tara was right. Her heart suddenly felt like lead inside her. She sank down beside her and touched her shoulder.

"Tara," she said gently, "You can't stay here. You've got to get out of this room."

Tara shook her head. "No, no, I can't..." She looked tearfully into Buffy's eyes. "I can't leave her again."

Buffy put her arms around Tara and held her. Then she heard the sound of the front door flying open. "Buffy! What's going on?! What's happened?" It was Dawn. In the background she could hear sirens approaching. The ambulance! Xander! She leaped up and flew back down the stairs.

Dawn looked frightened. "Buffy, what is all this? There's an ambulance out front. They want to know--"

"It's Xander. He's in the backyard. Warren shot him."

Dawn's eyes widened in panic."Xander! Oh, God!" She began to head for the back door, but Buffy grabbed her."No, I'll go with him. You have to go upstairs. You have to stay with Tara."

"Tara? Is she hurt?"

"No...Dawn...It's Willow."

Dawn stared fearfully at her. "Willow...?"

"She's dead, Dawn." Buffy swallowed hard. "I'll send the police back for...the body. Just...stay with Tara...Don't leave her alone."

Tears sprang from Dawn's eyes, but she fought them off. "I'll be okay," she said, struggling to look calm and sober-faced. "Go. Help Xander." She gave Buffy a brief hug, then headed up the stairs. Buffy wiped off her own tears and went out the door.

The emergency workers had already found Xander. Buffy raced up as they were lifting the stretcher into the ambulance. Ignoring the cries of the EMT's, she climbed in beside him. In seconds, the door closed and they were off.

Buffy looked down at Xander. Though pale and grimacing in pain, he was still conscious. "Know what's funny?" he managed to say.

"I'm sure you'll tell me," she answered.

"It doesn't feel like a shooting pain. Y'know, how they describe something as 'a shooting pain?' Turns out that a real gunshot doesn't feel like that."

"That is funny. Who knew?"

"Makes me wonder how it feels to get stabbed. Maybe that's not a 'stabbing' pain either."

"Could be. You never know."

He grimaced again, but suppressed a groan. "If it's not, we should alert the authorities. Truth in labelling and all that."

"I'll get right on it."

The ambulance pulled up at the hospital. As the others carried Xander out, Buffy approached the driver.

"You'll have to go back to my house," she said. "There's another,... it's not an emergency..., there's another victim...body, back there."

"We've already called the police," he said. "Standard operating procedure for shootings. They're probably already there."

"Oh, I see. Good."

"You probably should go back there, miss. I'm sure the police will need your help getting who did this."

Buffy's face tightened into a grim expression. "Oh, I think I can do more than just help."


	2. Chapter 2

Warren was surprisingly easy to find. Suspiciously easy, thought Buffy. Or at least should have thought. When the idea that he wasn't doing much to hide himself entered her mind, she shoved it aside as easily as she kicked in his front door.

"Warren," she called as she entered. The room looked empty, but something was wrong. She froze. She heard something to her left, saw a tiny movement in the corner of her eye. In an instant she grabbed a chair, flinging it toward...

"Aieee!" shrieked Warren as the chair knocked him to the floor. In seconds Buffy was on him. "Warren!" She grabbed him by the shirt, pushing him against the wall. "Where's your gun," she said with a shove. "Or did you decide we should settle this man to man? I think we're a man short."

"You...you can't do anything to me," spluttered Warren. "You have no authority! You're not the police! You can't touch me!"

"Oh, can't I?" said Buffy. "How about this?"

The first punch caught him square on the jaw. Buffy could feel the bone crunch under her fist. The second slammed into his ribs and she saw him gasp, the air suddenly filled with blood as it sprayed out of his mouth and nose. Blood, thought Buffy. Like Xander's blood. Willow's blood. Her anger overflowed as she hit him again and again. The rage seemed to resound in her head, drowning out his cries for mercy.

Suddenly, she looked down at him. He wasn't yelling now, just whimpering. His bloody face was a mask of pain. Like Tara's pain, Dawn's pain. Her pain. She looked at her hands. They were bleeding from the repeated blows, covered with his blood and her own.

Feeling oddly sick, she got to her feet. She looked once more at him, then walked into the next room. She picked up the phone and dialed 911, staring at her bloody hand as she waited for an answer.

"I need an ambulance."


	3. Chapter 3

It was dark when Buffy got home. Tara was there, sitting dully on the living room couch.

"The police were here," she said, not looking up. "They took...Willow."

Buffy swallowed hard. "Where's Dawn?"

"On the phone, I think. She was talking to Willow's parents before. They were making arrangements for the...the..." Tara looked up and suddenly noticed Buffy's appearance. "Buffy, you're bleeding!"

"Not much," said Buffy. "Most of the blood ... isn't mine."

Tara jumped up from the couch and grabbed Buffy's arm. "Come on. We've got to clean that off."

Buffy resisted. "No, I'll be fine."

"Don't be silly. It could get infected," said Tara, pulling Buffy into the bathroom."

Buffy flinched a bit as Tara carefully cleaned and dressed her cut and bruised knuckles. "There, all done," she said as she finished. She almost managed a smile as she began to take the bandaged hands into her own.

Buffy snatched her hands away. She suddenly felt as if Tara shouldn't touch her. No one should touch her after what she'd done. But her heart sank at the confused, almost hurt look in Tara's eyes.

"It ... it ... hurts, " Buffy managed to say.

"Oh, I'm sorry." Tara gently cradled Buffy's hands in hers. "Is that better?" she asked.

Again, Buffy felt as if she should pull away. She didn't deserve any sympathy. But ... but ... it did feel better.

"That's fine, yes," she said, leaving her hands in Tara's.

"Buffy!" came a shout from the other room.

"What is it, Dawn," Buffy yelled back.

"The police," said Dawn, rushing in. "They're on the phone. They want you to come down to headquarters."

"Why? What's wrong?"

"It's about Warren. They say they can't arrest him.


	4. Chapter 4

"It's impossible!"

"Miss Summers..."

"Run it again," snapped Buffy, still staring at the T.V. monitor in the police station.

The sergeant sighed and rewound the police security tape back to the beginning. Silently he and Buffy watched it again. There was Warren, standing at the front desk of the station, patiently filling out papers, then greeting Jonathan and Andrew as they were released from custody.

"He was here for almost half an hour, bailing them out," said the sergeant. "And if you'll notice the date and time stamp in the corner." He looked at Buffy. "It's exactly the time your friends were shot."

"But that can't be!" said Buffy.

"We compared it to the time of your call to 911. It came in at the same time Mears was leaving."

"The clock on your recorder must be wrong."

He shook his head. "We double-checked. This happened at the beginning of a shift. All the officers in the room know what time it was when they came on duty. If we tried to arrest Mears, it would be your word against a full squad of police officers."

"But ... but ... I'm not the only witness! Xander was there!"

The sergeant grimaced. "Oh, yes, Mr. Harris. Well, there's a problem with that, too."

"What problem?" said Buffy. "He knows who shot him. He was looking right at ..." She had a sudden horrifying thought. "Oh my God! Xander isn't..."

"He's fine," said the sergeant. "Out of surgery and conscious. But when we spoke to him..."

"What?"

"He couldn't remember a thing."


	5. Chapter 5

"Try not to upset him," said Anya to Buffy as they strode down the hospital corridor. "I mean, not any more than he already is."

Buffy glanced over at Anya. She looked tense and worn and badly in need of sleep. "Any more?"

"I had to tell him about Willow." She looked down. "He cried. And then, when he couldn't help the police..."

"What happened? How could he not remember –"

"This." Anya held out her hand. In it was an odd-looking root, like a grayish stalk of celery.

"Is that...?"

Anya nodded. "Lethe's Bramble. I found it under Xander's pillow."

They were at the door of Xander's hospital room. Buffy entered first.

Xander looked up. He looked pale and sick, attached to tubes and monitors. "I'm sorry, Buff."

"It's not your fault," she said.

"But how could Warren have done it," he said. "He doesn't do spells."

"He doesn't, but Jonathan does."

"Jonathan? But he's in jail."

"Not anymore. Warren was way ahead of us. He bailed him out. Or something."

"Something?"

"Never mind. He's out. He must have gotten in here and--"

"But he couldn't have," piped up Anya. "I would have seen him." She looked at Xander. "I was here all night. I didn't sleep."

Xander managed a small smile. "Not at all?"

"Not for a minute." She sat down on the bed and took his hand. "I couldn't."

"It wouldn't matter," said Buffy. "He could have disguised himself, used a glamour. Were there a lot of people in and out of here?"

Anya nodded. "Doctors, nurses, orderlies..."

"That's it, then. And we can't do anything about it now."

"But if it's a spell we can break it, get my memory back," said Xander. "We'll just get Willow–"

He stopped, looked down, and blinked a few times. "Well, I guess Tara could do it."

They all fell silent. Finally, Buffy spoke. "It wouldn't make any difference now. You've already told the police you couldn't remember who shot you. If you said any different now, the lawyers would just say you were changing your story to support me. They'd throw it right out of court."

"So ... what do we do?"

"Nothing," said Buffy. "Nothing at all."

The silence returned, heavier this time. "I've got to go," said Buffy. "I've got to get ready for ... the funeral."

"So soon?" said Xander. "I can't go?"

"It's Jewish law," said Buffy. "They have the funeral as soon as possible, the next day if they can."

Xander looked away and blinked some more. "It's just as well," he said. "It's one thing I don't want to remember."


	6. Chapter 6

It was a short funeral, or maybe it only seemed that way to Buffy. She couldn't remember much about it: standing between Dawn and Tara as the rabbi chanted the Hebrew prayers, the slow descent of the coffin into the grave, the surprisingly warm embrace from Willow's mother and father. Most everything else was a blur.

It was almost evening when they got home. Buffy headed for the kitchen, but Dawn pushed her and Tara onto the living room couch. "I'll make dinner," she announced, and neither argued. They sat there silently for a long while.

"Doesn't it hurt anymore?" asked Tara.

"What?" said Buffy foggily.

"Your hand," said Tara. "Is it okay now?"

Buffy looked down and saw that her bandaged hand was gently gripping Tara's. She hadn't even realized it. Again came the rush of guilt, but she didn't remove it. Tara dropped her head onto Buffy's shoulder, and they sat that way for a while longer, quiet and strangely comfortable.

There was a knock at the front door. "Wonder who that is," muttered Buffy, getting to her feet. She opened the door and was confronted with a surprising sight: two police officers. She recognized one, the sergeant who had told her he couldn't arrest Warren.

"Miss Summers," he said. "May we come in?"

"Um, sure," said Buffy. "What's this about? Can you arrest Warren now? If–"

"No," he said, entering. "I'm sorry. It's about this." Looking uncomfortable, he handed Buffy a piece of paper."

"What's this?" asked Buffy.

The look of discomfort turned into one of embarrassment. "I'm sorry," he repeated. "It's a warrant for your arrest."

"Her WHAT?!!" shouted Dawn, who had entered from the kitchen.

"Arrest. On the charge of assault and battery on the person of Warren Mears. He swore out the complaint himself from his hospital bed and —"

"He's got a nerve!" stormed Dawn. "He's lucky he's only in the hospital! He oughta be—"

"Dawn," said Buffy. "Don't."

"But Buffy, he—"

"I did attack him," she said. "I could have..." The sick guilty feeling welled up in her again.

"Buffy," Tara quietly interrupted, laying her hand on Buffy's shoulder. "Maybe you shouldn't say anything. At least until..."

"Until when?" said Buffy.

"Until we get you a lawyer."


	7. Chapter 7

The next few weeks were a trial in themselves for Buffy. Thank goodness Giles was there. He found a lawyer to take her case, and did most of the talking in their meetings with him. Fortunately, he was the type not to ask too many questions (Lawyers in Sunnydale must have to master that, thought Buffy). And thank goodness that Tara was there to take care of everything else.

Buffy had been hesitant to ask Tara to move in with them, but Dawn had insisted. "We're her family," said Dawn. "She shouldn't be alone." Tara had agreed, seemingly glad for the company. The strange thing was that, instead of their supporting her, she was soon the main support for them. She took over most of the domestic chores, the shopping the cooking, even making sure Dawn did her schoolwork. She did it all calmly and efficiently, even seeming cheerful most of the time. But Buffy knew better.

It was about a week after Tara had moved in. Late one night, Buffy passed by Tara's room and thought she heard something. Carefully she opened the door a crack, enough to see Tara sitting on the edge of the bed, softly crying. Without thinking, Buffy entered, sat down beside her, and put her arms around her. The sobs grew heavier, and soon Buffy gently eased her down onto the bed, letting her cry herself out until she finally fell asleep in Buffy's embrace.

After that, Buffy found she was acutely aware of Tara's moods. Nights when she sensed Tara was down, she would slip into her room, dry her tears, and hold her until they fell asleep. They never spoke. Buffy knew Tara was thinking about Willow. Knowing that let Buffy think about her, too, something she hadn't realized she was avoiding. More than once Tara would look over to see that Buffy was crying, too, and she would comfortingly put her arms around Buffy in return, or gently wipe away her tears.

It wasn't like before. They never made love. She didn't do anything with Tara that she wouldn't have done with Dawn. And just as they never spoke during these scenes, they never spoke about them, either. Nothing was different between them, though, on nights when she patrolled, she would often worry if Tara was all right alone.

Patrolling had become a problem, too. Though she was free on bail, Buffy soon discovered that the police hadn't lost interest in her. On her first night back, there it was, right in front of the house, not even trying to hide: a police car. She and the gang soon found ways to get past them without raising suspicion, but it was yet another thing to worry about.

Tonight would be no different. "Who is it this time," said Buffy.

"Looks like Harry," said Dawn, peeking between the drapes and out the front window. "You know, the sleeper."

"Yeah, well he doesn't sleep all the time."

"Should I save this for him?" asked Xander, lifting a platter of what was left of dinner.

"No, not him," said Dawn. "That's George."

"What, we're feeding the cops who are watching me now?" said Buffy.

"Just George," said Dawn.

"So we're feeding _one _of the cops who are watching me."

"He's nice!"

"You don't feed these people, Dawn," said Buffy. "They're like cats. You feed them once and you can't get rid of them."

"I don't think he's coming by for the food," said Xander with a grin. Dawn giggled and Tara rolled her eyes.

"What?" said Buffy, confused.

"He's got a crush on Tara," said Dawn. Tara gave Dawn a mildly annoyed look, but didn't argue the point.

"Really?" said Buffy, turning to Tara.

Tara looked sheepish. "We had leftovers one night, so I took them out to him. He started coming by the kitchen while I was cooking. I didn't think that ... I finally had to tell him, you know ..."

"Poor guy," said Dawn. "He was really disappointed."

"That's the Sunnydale police for you," said Xander. "Even their gaydar doesn't work."

"He's got a lot of nerve," fumed Buffy. "It's bad enough that they've got us in a box, watching every move we make, now they're coming into the house."

"He didn't mean any harm, Buff," said Xander. "He just–"

"That's not the point!" snapped Buffy. "What gives him the right to come in here and ..."

Buffy stopped, noticing the others staring at her vehemence. They were right, why was she so annoyed?

A knock at the back door rescued her. "If that's him, let him have the leftovers," she said, waving her hand dismissively. "What do I care?"

Dawn scurried to the back door. They could hear faint voices for a few seconds, then she returned. "It's not George," she said. Shambling into view behind her came a familar figure, though one they hadn't seen in a while.

"Clem!" shouted a surprised Buffy.

"Hey, everybody," said the saggy-skinned demon, waving to all a bit uncertainly.

"Long time no see," said Buffy, stepping up to greet him. "How've you been?"

"Ah ... pretty good. How about you?"

"Well, to tell the truth ..."

"Oh, right," he said. "Dumb question. I've been watching it all on the news. And I don't believe any of it. Not. A. Word. You can't take any of what they say seriously. I mean, look at what they say about Brad and Angelina."

"Um, thanks," said Buffy.

"Would you like something to eat?" said Tara, holding up the leftovers. "We just finished dinner."

"Oh, no thanks. Don't want you to think I'm some kind of shnorrer or anything," he said. "No that it doesn't look delicious," he added politely.

The demon seemed unusually ill-at-ease. "Clem, is everything O.K.?" asked Buffy.

"The fact is, this isn't a social call," he answered. "I would have come by to visit before. Really, I'm no fair-weather friend. But he didn't want you to see him, and I was afraid I I stopped by here I would spill the beans."

"He? He who?"

Clem exhaled heavily. "It's Spike."

"Oh, great," said Xander sourly.

"He's back?" said Buffy. "For how long? Where's he been?"

"And why didn't he stay there," added Xander.

"Sh, Xander," said Buffy. "Clem?"

"It's been a few weeks," said Clem. "He's ... different."

"Different how?"

"Well, he wasn't in his right mind for a while, Kind of babbling, talking crazy about what he went through."

"Sounds like an improvement," said Xander.

"Xander! Enough!" Buffy turned to Clem. "Went through what?"

"Some kind of test, or trial, or something. I'm not too clear on just what. So he could get it back."

"Get what back?"

"His soul."

The room fell silent. Spike with a soul? Buffy felt her head spinning.

"Can they do that?" blurted Dawn. "I mean, I know Angel got his back from a curse, but can you just ask and they give it to you?"

"They don't just give it," said Tara. "I've read some things about it. It's a set of trials. Hardly anyone survives."

"He barely did," said Clem. "He was in pretty bad shape when he showed up. He wouldn't go out, didn't want anyone to see him. Especially you," he added, turning to Buffy.

Buffy looked away. Considering what had happened the last time she saw him ...

"But since he found out you're in trouble, he's been different. Almost normal. He says he wants to help, but I can't get him to come here. He says he's too ashamed."

"He should be," said Xander.

"I wasn't sure what to do. If you could come over to see him ..."

Buffy took a moment to think, but not before freezing Xander with a look.

"If he's really changed ... " said Dawn.

"...then maybe you should at least see him," said Tara, finishing the thought.

"Where is he?" asked Buffy.

"At his old place," said Clem. "I look in on him every day, bring him blood."

"Are the cops still out there?"

"You mean that guy sleeping in his car?"

Buffy grabbed her jacket. "Let's go."


	8. Chapter 8

As they approached the crypt, Buffy felt a strange mix of curiosity and apprehension. Spike with a soul! What could it be like?

"You said he wasn't in his right mind?" she asked Clem.

"That was only when he first showed up. And he didn't hurt anyone, Well, except himself."

"He hurt himself?" said Buffy, alarmed.

"I saw the scars," said Clem, shaking his head and shuddering slightly. "Nasty. He'd been clawing at himself, trying to get rid of it, he said."

"His soul?"

"Yeah. Said he didn't want it anymore. Couldn't stand feeling all the things he'd done."

Buffy shuddered slightly herself. She'd never asked Angel what that was like, never thought what it was like to know you'd done something horrible and murderous. Not until the past few weeks. She swallowed hard and tried to push it out of her thoughts.

"But he's okay, now," Clem continued. "Mostly. Sometimes he has these spells."

"Spells?"

"Talking crazy. Saying stuff that doesn't make sense."

They'd reached the door. Clem leaned cautiously toward it, listening. He knitted his brow, the extra folds of skin making him look extra worried.

"At least he's not talking to himself," he said. "That's a good sign. Come on." They entered, Buffy cautiously hanging a few steps behind.

The sparsely decorated room was lit only by a table lamp. Buffy could see Spike sitting beside it, engrossed in a slim paperback. He didn't look up as they entered, but he immediately began to speak, his eyes rapt on the page before him.

"Clement, listen! Listen to this," he said excitedly,

"_You tossed a blanket from the bed,_

_You lay upon your back, and waited;_

_You dozed, and watched the night revealing_

_The thousand sordid images_

_Of which your soul was constituted...."_

"Eliot knew, Clem, he knew," said Spike, his eyes still riveted to the page.

"Another English poet?" said Clem.

"T.S. Eliot, you twit," said Spike. "He was an American."

"Well, born in St. Louis," piped up Buffy.

Spike looked up in shock at the sound of her voice. He shot to his feet, dropping the book to the floor.

"But he moved to England, even became a British subject," she concluded, her voice trailing off lamely as Spike stared at her.

He was even thinner and paler than of old. His eyes were pained, stricken. His face almost crumpled as he looked at her, but in a few seconds he seemed to gather himself.

"Well, I guess they did teach you something at that school. Or did you pick that up from Giles?"

Buffy remained silent. She didn't want to tell him she knew because Angel had once shown her the same poem, fascinated by the same lines.

"Maybe I should leave you two alone to talk," said Clem.

"No!" shouted Buffy and Spike simultaneously.

Spike gave Buffy an appraising glance. "You're looking well. Considering."

"Wish I could say the same," answered Buffy.

"I hear you've been going through some things."

"Not so much compared to you, I guess."

Spike looked away. "It was no picnic. They don't make it easy on a bloke, getting your soul back."

"Funny, you'd think they'd want more people with souls out there."

"I'm not a person, remember?" He shrugged. "Maybe they're trying to be kind. Once you have a soul, everything you did, everything you are ... it means something now. Who wants to live with that?"

Buffy could see his body quiver. He swallowed hard and the shaking stopped. He turned to look at her again. "What about you?" he said.

"What _about _me?"

"How are _you _living with it?"

She stared at him. "Well enough."

He stared back. "I wonder." This time Buffy looked away. "Anyway, I figured you could use some help."

"Help?"

"Working. Patrolling. Whatever. It can't be easy for you, trial coming up, coppers on your back."

Buffy hesitated, thought, then said, "Think you can handle it?"

Spike gave her a half-smile. "Only one way to find out."

Buffy managed a half-smile in return. "Come by tomorrow night. We'll see how it works out."

She turned to leave.

"Buffy?"

"Yeah?"

"Thanks."


	9. Chapter 9

"Buffy? Are you with us?"

Giles was giving her one of his patented Giles-looks: half stern reproof, half genuine concern.

"Sorry," said Buffy, directing it to everyone gathered around the table. "What are we talking about?"

"Andrew and Jonathan," said Giles. "The trial is only a few days off. If we can't find them –"

"And get them to tell the truth," inserted Anya.

"I don't see why you can't use your powers to locate them," interrupted Xander. "All Buffy has to do is say she wants revenge on them, and —"

Anya rolled her eyes. "Xander, we've been through this. If I find them that way, then I'll have to wreak some vengeance on them. And that's not going to put them on Buffy's side. Trust me. I know about this."

"But if..."

Buffy found herself tuning out again. She's heard this argument before.

Her gaze wandered over to the living room, where Dawn and Tara were involved in what looked like an intense conversation as they studied a spellbook. Normally Buffy loved seeing the two of them together, happy that they were close, that Dawn had Tara to depend on when she wasn't there. But now she felt unsettled at the sight. Was Tara teaching Dawn spells? She was too young for that, wasn't she? They couldn't be casting spells together. She watched as Tara smoothed back Dawn's long hair where it fell over the book. Maybe she should talk to her about it.

"Fancy a go, then?"

Buffy started at the sound of Spike's voice, barely over a whisper in her ear.

"What?"

"This meeting isn't going anywhere," he said, still in a low voice. "Come on, we'll go patrol."

Spike had fit in surprisingly well in the weeks since his return. Even Xander hadn't given him a hard time, and, though he didn't say much about it, Buffy could tell he was grateful to be included. Occasionally she would notice him staring off into space, or sometimes he would look at her in a strange abstracted fashion, as if he was trying to figure something out. But most of the time he was his old self: sarcastic and insubordinate.

"Think they'll miss us?" she responded sotto voce.

"Not a chance. Come on."

Buffy stood. "We're going on patrol," she announced, and, before anyone could object, headed for the door, Spike trailing. "Don't wait up," she called toward Dawn and Tara, and in a few seconds they were gone.


	10. Chapter 10

Dawn took careful notice as Tara continued to gaze at the door for a few seconds after Buffy left.

"They're just going on patrol," said Dawn.

"Yes, I heard."

"That's all, just patrolling."

"I know."

"I mean, there's nothing going on between them, not anymore."

"I didn't think there was," said Tara. "Why, has she said anything to you?"

"No," said Dawn. "But I can tell. You can always tell when there's something between two people, right?"

"Really?" said Tara, giving her a peculiar look.

"Sure. You can just ... tell." Dawn gulped. This wasn't going the way she'd planned. Quickly she seized the spellbook. "So, what about a truth spell?"

"A truth spell? What for?"

"You know, for Andrew and Jonathan, once we find them."

Tara shook her head worriedly. "Oh, I don't know about that, Dawnie. Truth spells are hard. And they usually don't work out the way you want them to."

"Why's that?"

"It can be pretty hard to get people to admit things, even when they're true."

"Tell me about it," mumbled Dawn under her breath.

"What?"

"Nothing, nothing," said Dawn. "Want more coffee?"

"O.K.," said Tara, handing Dawn her cup.

Dawn retreated to the kitchen. Well, that went just great, she thought sourly. She glanced back at Tara. She was gazing at the door again, a bit forlornly, thought Dawn.

Poor Tara, she thought. If she could just get her to admit —. Or Buffy. What was with them, anyway? Maybe she _should _try a truth spell. Nah, probably wouldn't work on them. They spend so much energy denying their feelings they were probably immune by now.

Dawn sighed. Maybe Spike was having better luck.


	11. Chapter 11

Buffy couldn't stand it any longer. They had been on patrol for almost an hour. They hadn't come across any vampires or demons, but that wasn't what was bothering her. It was that, in that whole time, Spike hadn't said a word. She didn't really miss his snarky observations, but this was a little too much.

"O.K., what's going on here?" she finally said.

"What?" said Spike.

"You haven't said a single word for fifty-seven minutes," she said. "What's the deal?"

"Oh, you want to talk, do you? Really?"

"Funny, the weather report didn't say anything about sarcasm in this area."

"Oh, come on," he said. "What do you think we're doing out here? No demons or beasties or anything out tonight. You just grabbed any excuse I could give to get out of that meeting. Anything to avoid trying to defend yourself at that trial."

"What are you talking about? Of course I want to —"

"Don't you think I've been watching you? You _want _to be found guilty! All out of some bloody overdeveloped sense of right and wrong. And for nothing! Nothing!!"

"It wasn't nothing!" shouted Buffy angrily. "I –"

"Just who do you think you're talking to?" said Spike, the tone of his voice suddenly switching from derisive to flinty hard. "Do you know how many people I've killed? Innocent people? I think about them every day, every minute. It's all I can do to keep from dusting myself, but I don't, because I think maybe I can do something to atone, to make things right. I know I never will, but I try anyway. But you! That worthless git shot holes through your two best friends, and you want to go to jail because you wanted him dead for a few seconds and threw one too many punches?! Well, boo-bloody-hoo! Excuse me for thinking you're wrong!"

Buffy felt herself shrivel inside. Fortunately, Spike kept talking, more calmly now.

"It's all right," he said in a matter-of-fact voice. "That's not you're real problem, anyway."

"It's not?"

"Of course not. Your friends will find some way to keep you out of jail, even if you don't help them. But your personal life..." Spike snorted. "You're lucky you have me around to help you with that."

Buffy began to fume. "Why the hell should I listen to you? Look at you! All of your problems, and you're still sticking your nose into my life."

"That's because your problems are so easy to solve. You've only got one: You're in love and you don't want to admit it, not even to yourself."

"God! The ego! I've never been in love with you!"

"Did I say it was with me?"

Spike smirked at Buffy's sudden inability to answer. "You're in love, Slayer, you're in love with somebody, and you better do something about it before it kills you."

Buffy stared at the ground. How does he do it, she thought, how does he always know, when even I don't?

She paused for a long moment. "You're not jealous?" she said quietly, still not looking up.

"Of Glinda the good witch? I suppose I should be, but it would be like kicking puppies. I didn't do that even when I didn't have a soul."

"What about kittens?"

"Kittens have claws. She doesn't. Besides, and don't let this go to your head, but I admire her taste in women."

Buffy looked up. "You mean, you think ... she ... too ...?"

Spike smiled, a real smile this time, not a smirk. "Buffy, how could she not?"

Buffy managed a smile in return, but it faded just as quickly. "But what if she ... after what I did ...?

"Oh, we're back to _that _are we? All right, suppose she thinks you're just as guilty as you think you are. Do you honestly think she wouldn't forgive you? Her, of all people? She'd forgive you the bloody Crucifixion."

Buffy suddenly felt strangely light-hearted, happy for the first time since ... since ...

"Do you think she's waiting up for me?"

Spike rolled his eyes. "What do you think?"

"Can you finish patrolling alone? I could..."

"Go!"

Buffy started to dash off, then stopped and turned.

"Spike?"

"Yeah?"

"Thanks."

Spike smiled. He looked different than usual, thought Buffy. Surprisingly ... human.


	12. Chapter 12

Buffy found Tara sitting alone on the living room couch. She stood and gazed at her a long time before Tara noticed her and looked up.

"Could I ask you two questions?" said Buffy.

"Um, sure," said Tara. "Go ahead."

"What I did ... to Warren ... Was it right?"

"What you did?"

"Attacking him. Trying to kill him."

"You didn't try to kill him."

"But I —"

"You didn't," said Tara firmly. "You attacked him. You hit him. But you didn't try to kill him."

"But I, I wanted to. I —"

"You wanted to, but you didn't. You stopped. Someone might have died, but you stopped it. You stopped yourself. That's why you're Buffy."

Buffy stared at her for a long moment. "You really think of it that way?"

"I do."

Buffy looked down. "Everyone's been telling me that. Giles, Dawn, Xander, even Spike. I tried to tell myself, too, but I didn't believe it." She looked up at Tara. "Until now."

"What's different now?" said Tara.

"I think I needed you to tell me."

Buffy sat down beside her, tucking her legs underneath so she could face her. Slowly, she took Tara's face in her hands and gently kissed her, a long, lingering kiss. When it was over, Buffy held Tara's face a few inches from her own.

Tara smiled. "What was the other question?"

"Are we in love?"

Tara's smile widened. "Yes. Yes, we are."

"And how many people knew about this before me? Besides you. And Spike."

"Oh, Dawn knows, definitely."

"She does?"

"Mm-hmm."

"Who else?"

"Anya has probably figured it out by now. She's pretty sharp about these things."

"How about Giles?"

"He's very sensitive to your feelings. He must suspect."

"So at least I figured it out before Xander." Buffy smiled wryly. "I get the feeling you didn't fall for me because of my keen deductive powers."

Tara leaned forward and kissed her warmly. "You have many other good qualities," she said.

"You promise to tell me about them? I think I need to hear that sometimes."

"Every day, " said Tara, taking Buffy into her arms.


	13. Chapter 13

It's too warm, thought Buffy foggily as she awoke. Why is the bed so warm?

Then she remembered.

Smiling to herself, she snuggled closer to Tara, wanting to feel more of the wonderful soft warmth. Why aren't I freaked, she wondered. She opened her eyes and smiled again at Tara's sleeping face. She decided it was impossible to wake up next to Tara and not feel happy. Gently she nuzzled her neck, then her ear.

Tara's eyes fluttered open. She turned on her side and smiled at Buffy.

"Good morning," she said softly. "How are you?"

"Wonderful, " said Buffy.

"Me, too," said Tara. "Would you like to –"

"Yes," said Buffy, and kissed her hungrily. It lasted a nice long time. When it was over, Tara took a breath, giggled, and said, "That's not what I meant."

"Oh, sorry, " said Buffy. "What were you going to say?"

"I forget, " said Tara, pulling her into another kiss.

There was suddenly a loud knocking on the bedroom door. Before they could answer it, the door opened and Dawn entered, carrying a tray with two plates of breakfast.

"Dawn!" spluttered Buffy, scrambling to pull up the bed covers.

"Hey, I knocked," said Dawn. She put down the tray, stood beaming at Buffy and Tara for a few moments, then rushed to the bed and joyfully hugged her sister.

"Dawn, this is not a good time for this," said Buffy as she struggled to untangle herself and stay covered.

"Oh, come on," said Dawn. "It's nothing I haven't seen before." Grinning hugely, she turned to a red-faced but smiling Tara and pulled her into the same embrace. "You can't believe how happy this makes me."

Buffy glanced over at the tray. "Two plates? How did you know that–"

Dawn gave her an all-knowing sphinx look. "How dumb do you think we are? Your door was closed, Tara wasn't in her room, so naturally we figured –"

"Wait a second," said Buffy. "We?"

"Sure. We've all been waiting for the longest time for you two to ... y'know. Xander figured you'd already –"

"Xander knew?!" Buffy groaned and Tara burst into laughter. Buffy looked at her and smiled. "I know. Many other good qualities."

"What?" said Dawn.

"Private joke," said Tara as she leaned past Dawn to kiss Buffy. As she warmly returned the kiss, Buffy felt Dawn nudge her.

"Um, guys," she said, and gestured toward the bedroom door.

They looked up to see Xander in the doorway, standing extremely ill-at-ease as he carefully averted his gaze to the hallway.

"I didn't come up to sneak a look. Honest," he said.

"Right," said Buffy.

"I didn't!" he insisted, turning to her as he spoke, then frantically looking away again.

"So why are you here?"

"We've got visitors."

"Who?"

"Who have we been looking for for weeks?"

"Jonathan and Andrew?" said Buffy incredulously. "They're here?"

"Downstairs. They say they want to talk to you."


	14. Chapter 14

"I don't trust them."

Anya looked into the living room, where Andrew and Jonathan were silently sitting on the couch.

"Not so loud," said Xander. "They'll hear you."

"So what if they do, " she said. "They should know we don't trust them. Unless they're stupid." She glanced toward them again. "Now that I think of it, that one, whatsisname, doesn't seem too bright."

"Um, guys," came a voice form the other room, "I _did _hear that. And I kinda resent it," said Andrew. Jonathan hit him on the arm. "Ow!"

Buffy rose, leading the others into the living room. "O.K.," she said, sitting down opposite Jonathan. "What do you want? What are you doing here?"

"We can help," said Jonathan.

Anya snorted, but Buffy ignored her. "How?"

"We know what Warren did."

"Commit murder?" said Buffy, staring coldly at him.

Jonathan squirmed. "Yes, that, and how he got away with it."

"How he was in two places at once?" said Giles.

"He wasn't, " said Jonathan.

"But the police film –"

"He wasn't," repeated Jonathan. "And I can prove it."

"Why?" said Buffy.

"What?"

"Why are you helping me?" said Buffy, still with a cold edge to her voice. "What's in it for you?"

Jonathan smiled slightly. "Buffy, how many times have you saved my life?"

"I don't know. I guess, maybe ..."

"Four times," said Jonathan. "And that's just the times you were saving me specifically. There were other times when you saved the whole school. And other times when you probably saved the world, with me in it. I owe you something for all that, don't you think?"

Buffy's expression softened. "I guess."

Jonathan nodded. "So, here's my plan ..."

"It's not something you borrowed from X-Men 3 or something, is it?"

"Actually, I thought X-Men 3 was very underrated," said Andrew. "It was very ..."

"Andrew!" snapped Jonathan.

"I thought so, too, " said Xander. "It kind of ..."

"Xander!" snapped Buffy.

"Not X-Men, " said Jonathan. "Tale Of Two Cities."


	15. Chapter 15

"Are you sure this will work?" whispered Buffy's lawyer.

Buffy nodded confidently. She looked at the police officer in the witness box, then across the courtroom at a smugly smiling Warren. Turning in her chair, she spotted Xander as he stood at the rear beside the entrance. He glanced out the door, then gave her the thumb's up sign.

"Go for it," she told her attorney.

The lawyer rose. "Officer, you have testified that you were present when Mr. Mears bailed his two friends out of jail. Are you 100% sure it was him?"

"Objection," interrupted the prosecutor. "Asked and answered. And I fail to see why this is germane to the charges against Miss Summers."

"Goes to motivation, your honor," said Buffy's attorney. "If we can show how Miss Summers believed she was dealing with a dangerous criminal, a murderer in fact, when she confronted Mr. Mears, it becomes far different than the simple assault he claims."

"Overruled, " said the judge.

"It was him," said the policeman.

"You're sure? This was the man you saw pay the bail for Mr. Levenson and Mr.... uh ..."

"Absolutely."

"Oh, " said the lawyer. "Then you're sure it wasn't _this _man."

He turned around and pointed to the rear of the courtroom. Xander nodded, waved his arm in a 'come-on' gesture, and Jonathan and Andrew entered. Between them stood an exact double of Warren.

While the rest of the courtroom gasped and tried to get a better look at the newcomers, Buffy kept her eyes focused on Warren. His confident smile vanished, and he turned ashy white.

The judge rapped for order. "Who is that man?" he demanded.

"This is the man who actually bailed us out," said Jonathan. "We're prepared to testify to that fact, as is he."

Warren leaped to his feet. "He can't do that!" he shouted.

"And why not?" said the judge. "Do you know this man, Mr. Mears? Who is he?"

"It's ... that's ...." sputtered Warren.

Buffy smiled grimly as she locked gazes with Warren. She could almost read the panicked thoughts going through his mind: How did they find my robot duplicate? What did Jonathan and Andrew tell them? If they have the nerve to bring the robot into court, they could have programmed it to say ... anything!

"It's ... there's no need to swear anyone else in," said Warren. "It ... he _is _the one who bailed out Jonathan and Andrew."

"So you have no alibi for the crimes Miss Summers has accused you of?"

Warren wiped the sweat that was suddenly pouring down his face. "I .., um ... I refuse to answer on the grounds it might incriminate me."

"I see, " said the judge. He turned to Buffy's attorney. "Have you any further questions for the witness?"

"No, your honor. The defense rests."

The judge nodded. "Bailiff, take Mr. Mears into custody for the purpose of turning him over to the police. I expect they'll have some questions for him regarding the murder of Willow Rosenberg and attempted murder of Alexander Harris."


	16. Chapter 16

"So, what do you think?" said Buffy.

Giles looked dubiously at the paper cup in his hand. "I think that bailiff doesn't know the first thing about making a proper cup of tea."

Buffy rolled her eyes. "That's not what I'm talking about."

Giles smiled and sat down beside her in the small courthouse ante room, "Yes, I know, " he said. He took a sip and grimaced. "You heard the judge. Whether or not Warren is a murderer or not isn't supposed to influence the jury's decision."

Buffy nodded. "Right. They have to make up their own minds about what I did."

"And have you made up your mind about it?" Giles asked.

She nodded again. "Definitely. Not guilty."

"Glad to hear it," he said. 'I was worried for a while how you would decide."

"Me, too. I just needed time to consider the evidence. And listen to all the witnesses."

"You didn't seem to be listening for a while."

"Yeah, I know. I'm sorry about that."

"Or maybe it was just one witness you needed to hear from."

She looked over at him and smiled. "And how do you feel about _that _?"

Giles hesitated slightly. "She's a lovely girl."

"_I _think so."

"And I like her better than anyone else you've been involved with."

"But ...? "

"No," he said. "It's just that ... well, you must know by now that I'm never going to think anyone is good enough for you."

Buffy's smile widened. "So you approve?"

"Very much."

A sharp knock came on the door, and a bailiff entered.

"Jury's back. They have a verdict."


	17. Chapter 17

As the jury filed in, Buffy snuck a look back at the visitor's seating. Giles, Anya, and Xander tried to seem at ease, but Dawn looked pale and nervous. Tara put a comforting arm around her and looked up at Buffy, a confident look in her calm blue eyes. Buffy smiled back, then was shocked to see who was sitting next to Tara. It was Spike. More amazingly, he was wearing a tie! Buffy stared incredulously at him, her hand coming up to her neck. Spike shrugged, giving her a what-the-hell half-grin.

"Has the jury reached a verdict?" said the judge.

"Yes, your honor," answered the jury forewoman.

"How do you find?"

She looked directly at Buffy. "We find the defendant, Buffy Anne Summers, not guilty on all charges."

Buffy didn't clearly remember much of the next few minutes. Amid the welter of joyful cries and hugs she knew that Dawn had been the first to get to her, embracing her with all her might. She knew that Spike had tried to slip away from the crowd, but that she had grabbed him and stopped him with a silent look of gratitude. And she knew that she ended up with Tara's arms around her.

"Want to go home?" she heard her whisper softly.

Buffy nodded mutely, but before they could turn to leave she felt a tap on her shoulder.

It was the bailiff. "Miss Summers? Could you come with me?"

"Why? What's wrong? I thought the trial was over?"

"It is," he said. "But the jury asked if they could speak with you privately." He looked around at the others. "They said the rest of you could come, too."


	18. Chapter 18

Buffy and the gang entered the jury room to find the jurors already assembled, standing and waiting.

Feeling a bit unsure, Buffy began speaking. "I want to thank you, all of you. I –"

The forewoman interrupted her. "No, we want to thank _you. _That's why we asked to see you like this."

"Thank me?"

"For everything you've done for us."

"Done for you?" said Buffy, feeling baffled.

The forewoman opened her purse and fished out a piece of paper. She unfolded it and handed it to Buffy. "Here," she said.

The paper was old and a bit wrinkled, but Buffy could clearly make out a child's drawing. It showed a blonde woman triumphantly standing over an ugly bleeding man lying dead at her feet. It seemed familiar. Very familiar. Then she remembered: The hospital. The Kindestod, the child-killing demon.

"My son Ryan made a couple of drawings like this. He insisted I send you one."

Buffy nodded, still staring at the picture. "I got it."

"He starts high school next year." Buffy looked up, and the woman, though near tears, smiled at her. "He'd be dead if it wasn't for you."

A man stepped up from the group. "I was at the Sunnydale Mall four years ago. This ... thing ... appeared. It stretched its arms out and I couldn't move. None of us could. I felt the life being pulled out of me ... then, boom, something blew it apart, I looked up, and there you were, holding this, this ..."

"Bazooka," said Buffy, smiling faintly.

"It was at the high school for me," said another man. "I had a booth set up for career day. Some woman in a police uniform started shooting. She hit one boy, grabbed another. But you jumped in and stopped her."

One by one, they told their stories. If it wasn't them, it was their brother, their wife, their daughter whom Buffy had been there to save.

"We don't know what that man did," said the forewoman. "Maybe he deserves to be arrested. But even if he doesn't, it didn't make any difference to us. No matter what the judge said, we knew we were going to vote you free. Maybe it isn't strictly legal, but you should never be in jail. Not after what you've done for us, and for this town. There might not even be a town here if it wasn't for you."

Buffy swallowed hard and managed to choke out "Thank you."

The woman smiled. "We just thought you'd like to know."

.


	19. Chapter 19

Tara crossed the living room slowly. They had asked everyone to come back to the house to celebrate, even the jurors, and she had to navigate carefully among the people and scattered food containers. Head down, as she stepped to one side to avoid an open pizza box, she bumped into someone.

She looked up. "Spike."

He backed away slightly to give her room, carefully holding his paper cup. She looked down into it, seeing a red liquid.

"Pig's blood," he said. "Don't tell the rest of this lot. I'm letting them think it's tomato juice."

"Uh, right. I was just, um ... "

Spike gave her a knowing look. "She's out on the porch with Dawn, " he said, gesturing toward the door. She began to move past him, but he abruptly grabbed her arm. "Listen, I'm not going to tell you I'm not jealous, because that would be a lie. But I'm happy she's happy, alright? That's the best I can do for now."

"That sounds plenty good to me," said Tara.

"Of course, if you break her heart, soul or not, I _will _have to kill you. Understand?"

Tara smiled. "Perfectly."


	20. Chapter 20

Dawn leaped up and embraced Tara as soon as she walked out onto the porch. "You guys stay out here as long as you like," she said with a grin, half-pushing Tara toward the seated Buffy. "I'll make sure nobody bothers you," she added as she exited into the house.

"I think she approves," said Tara. Buffy reached up and pulled Tara down beside her. She kissed her once, then dropped her head comfortably onto Tara's shoulder. They stayed that way for a few minutes, not speaking.

"It's a little overwhelming," Buffy finally said.

"What's that?"

"Knowing that so many people depend on me."

Tara shook her head. "You mean, that so many people love you."

Buffy squirmed a bit, but smiled. "I guess I'm still having trouble with that one."

"You'll get better at it," said Tara, kissing her on the forehead.

Buffy snuggled closer. "I guess I'd better enjoy it while I can, before the next Big Evil shows up to interrupt it."

"What Big Evil?"

"Oh, one is bound to get here sooner or later. This is Sunnydale, home of the Big Brewing Evil, as Willow used to say." She looked up at Tara. "It's okay for me to mention her, isn't it?"

"Sure it is."

"It doesn't bother you?"

"Not at all." She looked tenderly at Buffy. "After all, she loved you, too."

Buffy reached up and kissed her again.

"Any more questions?" asked Tara with a smile.

Buffy smiled back. "Not a one."

Tara dropped her head onto Buffy's shoulder as Buffy wrapped her arms around her. They sat that way silently for a long while. No one disturbed them.

"_More than you know,_

_More than you know,_

_Girl of my heart_

_I love you so._

_Lately I find,_

_You're on my mind,_

_More than you know._

_Whether you're right,_

_Whether you're wrong,_

_Girl of my heart_

_I'll string along._

_I need you so,_

_More than you'll ever know."_

The End


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